Hardly
by needsocks
Summary: Freya Medler of district 4 is reaped into the 73rd annual Hunger games at the age of 12, not knowing a thing about weapons or how to survive the only thing she has is the promise that she will get home from Finnick Odair. But why does he care so much? She's just another tribute... or is she? ( All recognized characters and themes are Suzanne Collins, not mine.)


**Authors note: ****Hi everyone! If your reading this then that means... YOU CLICKED ON MY STORY SO ****THANKYOU! ****So I started this story after the reaping! Because reaping's are boring! So this story starts on the train to the Capitol. But don't worry as I will be filling in details such as Freya's appearance and characteristics in later chapters as Freya develops. This is my very first story so please feel free to comment and give me some criticisms Thanks and please ENJOY. And all recognizable characters and themes belong to Suzanne Collins x **

I entered into the train, my mind so full of thought's and fears that I stumbled every couple of steps and had to put all of my concentration into stopping tears from welling in my eyes. I knew how much depended on me keeping my composure. If only I had thought of that earlier. So I tried to concentrate on another feeling and not the fear that threatened to consume me. And that was , **_anyone _**should have volunteered. But of-course nobody did. It's almost funny, people are so fond of being there for you when it's easy but the second there's a consequence they're nowhere to be seen. It was in that moment that I knew I would never forget their faces as I walked up to the stage, the way they would stare at the ground as I walked past, desperate not to make eye contact. It was then that I knew they would never forgive them for what they didn't do.

I snapped out of my thoughts and hastily wiped my hands on my reaping dress before opening the door to the dining room and preparing to meet my mentors. At first I couldn't help but take in the lavish decorations of the room, but other things needed my attention far more desperately_. _

I Cleared my throat quietly and settled my line of vision on the mentors that sat before me. The first I saw was Mags, a little old lady with frosty white hair, everything about her seemed caring... almost maternal. She was old and weathered but her eyes they were so different, sparkling green and as sharp as a knife. Right now those eyes were scrutinizing me, seeing if I was worth wasting her time on or not I thought. Quickly becoming intimidated by her relentless stare I moved my gaze onto the other Mentor; Finnick Odair. His famous sea green eyes bore into mine. But not with quiet intensity like his counterpart Mags, he looked at me more with confusion than anything else as if he was silently asking what I was doing here, then thinly veiled anger and finally nothing. Nothing but a fake look of normality.

I didn't know how to respond so I stood silently hovering between the door and the table waiting for any kind of sign to sit myself down. Moments later one finally came in the form of Finnick offering me a smile and beckoning me over. I said nothing and quietly pulled out a chair and settled at the table, as did my district partner, Krypton albeit in a louder more obnoxious fashion, making me flinch . He always seemed to have an air of confidence about him as he grinned at my reaction. In fact it was almost as if he felt that he had these games in the bag. Just looking at that boy, or should I say that mountain- of- power- and- strength- that- was- sure- to- make- me- meet- an- untimely -death, yes it was fair to say that I was terrified of being even in the same vicinity as him.

"So how to I win this?" Krypton asked lazily, ever the confident. I of course was insulted by his words. I mean honestly I was sitting right next to him! However annoyed I was I had to admit he had a point, I had done everything wrong. Crying before the reaping, during the reaping, after the reaping, in the car on the way the train, to be honest I was quite surprised I wasn't crying now. So I settled on an icy glare in his direction.

Finnick,however, did not take Krypton's comment so easily. He got up from the bench on the other side of the table and pulled out my chair, half dragging half leading me to his own side of the table and wedged me in-between himself and Mags. Before he settled back into his own space on the bench and wound an arm around my waist.

"What are you doing? Get off me!" I hissed angrily but Finnick said nothing, only tightening his grip and leaned over my head whispering to Mags quickly, before the two seemed to come to a conclusion.

"So me and Mag's have decided, you- he said referring to me- are training with me, and you-he said making no effort to hide his distaste whilst addressing Krypton- are training with Mags."

"Unless you have any problem with that." he asked me gently as an after thought.

"No it's fine" I replied sternly, as nice as Finnick was being to me I hated being treated like a fragile thing, I know I had acted badly during the reaping but gentle words don't win these Games. Finnick seemed unaffected by my words and instead steered me out of the dining room and down a series of corridors before stopping outside a room, never once taking his arm of my waist even as he searched through his pockets trying to find his key for the room. Seeing his temporary weakness I started to pull his arm off me but to no avail.

"Are you mental?" I questioned angrily tugging relentlessly at his hand.

"Quite." he responded smiling down at me in triumph as he managed to pull the key from his pocket and twisted it into the lock before leading me into the room.

The whole room had mirror panels around all four walls, dark wood flooring, a two seat table and a luxury double bed. It looked exactly like my room which I had briefly stayed in before heading to the dining room.

"This is yours?" I questioned Finnick as he dumped the bag I hadn't noticed he was holding on the bed.

"Yeah, home sweet home." He mumbled the last bit looking down.

"Hardly." I mumbled back as I paced the room trying to take it all in.  
He looked up at me and smiled, the first real one I had seen all day, and repeated my word quietly.

"So!-" He started energetically and hastily got up from the bed to stand behind me, "-what have we got here?" he asked, mostly to himself as he gently pushed me towards a mirror.

"Good bone structure" He commented, holding one hand under my chin and the other on-top of my head as he tilted it from side to side, spewing out comments that I didn't really understand. So I just started to stare at him in the mirror. His sea green eyes looked so concentrated as he carried on analyzing me.I found it hard to believe that he had actually won his games. I didn't think that he was incapable, I had never seen his actual games but the Capitol were fond of re-runs so I picked it up, it was just that he seemed gentle and kind. These were not the traits of a victor.

Suddenly he stopped talking and looked at me as if waiting for something.

"What? Sorry?" I asked quickly, embarrassed of my lack of concentration.

He smiled at my flushed face, "I said what do **_you _**think?" he repeated taking his hand of my head and placing them on my shoulders.

"Of what?" I asked again, this time in a slightly more irritated tone.

"The way you look." he asked bluntly.

I didn't know what to say, " I've never really thought of it before." I answered looking up at him.

"**_Think now._"** he whispered down to me, still wanting an _answer._

_"_ I don't really look like a classic district four girl." I mumbled staring hard at my reflection. Light brown skin and jet black curls were hardly a general representation of a district four girl. They usually had tanned skin and brown or copper hair.

" My eyes aren't even green." I laughed quietly as I stared into my light blue orbs.

"**Exactly**." Finnick concluded happily, releasing my shoulders and sitting down at the small table.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my face scrunched in confusion as I settled myself into the chair opposite.

"You're _different._ People like different it keeps them interested." he explained.

"This is ridiculous." I fumed angrily running a hand through my hair and glaring at the table.

Finnick's face turned from confident to confused.

"I mean why do they get to control my life! I have to go into an arena and fight for my life, probably getting killed in the process and now I have to keep those people, if you can even call them that entertained! Is this all a sick joke to them! I yelled desperately standing up from my chair and pacing the room.

Finnick moved just as quickly as me as he got up from his chair and placed his hand over my mouth, his eyes were flashing around every crack and crevice of the room. There was more fear in his eyes than I had ever seen in his games. After a minute he took his hand away from my mouth and spun me around quickly to face him.

" You can **never** say anything like that again do you understand me?" he ordered quietly but full of rage.

I didn't say anything at-all, still shocked at his tone of voice, it seemed so out-of-place for him.

" Do. You. Understand?" he repeated, his voice close to shouting.

"Ye-yes." I managed to get out, my eyes let out a single traitor tear which seemed to soften Finnick entirely.

"Good." he praised quietly before slowly walking back over to the table.

"Come here, I want to show you something." he started softly.

I said nothing and walked back over to the table settling down in the chair opposite him.

" Anytime you feel like you want to say something like that I want you to do this." he instructed placing both his hands vertically on the table palms facing inward and then he moved them into each other like a slow motion clap before pushing them hard together, holding it for a few moments and then letting go.

" What is that?" I asked, copying Finnick's movements.

"It's you. anytime you feel like you're falling apart but your hands together and push, that way you stay together." he explained staring at my own hands as I did it the logic was childlike and yet the actions themselves had a soothing property .

I did it one more time on my own and surprisingly it actually helped. We sat like that for a few more minutes, I would go through the motions and Finnick would watch me intently.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that like that- Finnick said quietly,breaking the silence with a genuine look of regret on his face as I assumed he remembered what he had said earlier- I think you could have potential , tell me about your skills." he asked softly changing the subject , lacing his fingers together and leaning his elbows on the table. I stared at him before shaking my head " I don't have any." I responded blankly. Just the thought of ending someones life was to disgusting to even think about. Finnick however was determined and pressed on " Everyone has something." he prompted sternly. I decided to really rack my brains for something, anything that could potentially help me. " There is one thing..." I started unsteadily.

"Go on,"he responded, leaning forward slightly more.

"I can tell things about people, when- when I look at them, I think it might be called de... ded..." I fumbled with my words.

"Deduction." Finnick ended for me.

"Yeah that's it."I confirmed. I sat in silence with Finnick staring at me for several minutes.

"What?" I asked, feeling completely unsettled by his stare.

"Do it, right now on me." he challenged, by his tone I could tell that he thought I was lying.

"Fine." I huffed sitting up straight and staring straight at Finnick, observing everything. And then just like that random things, facts about him started flowing in my head and blurted out my mouth, "You've knotted rope recently, not as a job but as a stress reliever, I can tell by the small amount of rope burn on your hand and small stress marks that are on your forehead, the concealer you've used hasn't quite done it's job. Judging by the fact that you haven't got a surgical procedure done to remove them I can only assume that your stress is constant rather than a forgotten issue. You also haven't gotten much sleep lately due to one night stands. You have two very light lipstick marks near your neck but both in different shades so is mustn't be the same girl. However these girl's are not the object of your affection are they? Your heart belongs to Annie Cresta doesn't it? You have a very recent smudge of lipstick on your actual lips, a shade of burgundy, the exact same shade Annie was wearing at the reaping today. Is that all correct?" I asked looking into his dumbstruck face with a small smirk. Finnick had paled slightly during my observations and seemed to be stuck in shock.

"Are you okay?" I asked, scared that I had offended him somehow. He shook his head and stared at me with an un-readable emotion, "It's nothing. That was good. just be careful how you use it." he responded blankly getting up and leading me towards the door . I opened and closed my mouth, trying to find the words to say. I didn't mean to be rude he had asked me to do it, either way I really didn't want to leave Finnick. Something about him made me feel safer. But it seemed saying nothing had stopped him as he paused in the doorway and spun me around to face him. Some color had returned to his face and he seemed to be getting back to normal "I'm so sorry, I forgot to ask your name." he asked with an obvious fake smile.

"Freya Medler." I responded quietly, unsure if he was still upset. Momentarily his eyes widened in shock, he gave another one of those smiles and carried on. "And your Parent's names?" he pressed on, and I could swear there was hint of urgency in his words.

"I never knew them. Medler is the name of the community home in District 4, so I got it." I responded in confusion. This time I was sure I saw him looking shocked again. He gave a nod and another tight smile before steering me back into the know empty dining room and leaving at record speed. So that's how I ended up all alone, lost on a train riding me to my death.


End file.
